


A Toy's Story

by THA_THUMPP



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Toy Story (Movies), M/M, POP!Vinyl Figure Daryl Dixon, POP!Vinyl Figure Rick Grimes, POV Daryl, POV First Person, POV Rick, Rickyl, because they're fucking adorable, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THA_THUMPP/pseuds/THA_THUMPP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Sheriff Deputy Rick Grimes, and this is my story...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rick POV

**Author's Note:**

> All you need to know is that last week we bought our first TWD POP! Vinyl Figures and that the only movie we watched during our 15hr return-flight home was Toy Story.

The bedroom of twelve-year-old Carl wasn’t a prison. It was a playroom, a community where I laid the rules and regulations for every toy, new or old, that inhabited it.

I had the run-of-the-mill, kept everythang safe, in-check, and then some. Looked after the toy train when it needed a tune-up, had its wheels greased so it’d be on time for the folks who had trouble gettin’ around the floorboards. Helped out the rag-doll Sophia when she couldn’t get to those hard-to-reach knots in her yarn hair by brushin’ it for her with that forgotten toothbrush under the bed. Hell, I even took care of the horse.

Buttons. He was called that because of his eyes. He’d lost his real ones when Judith, Carl’s baby sister, knocked him from her highchair. Glass, I think they were. And I’m pretty sure that whoever else bore witness to them smackin’ the linoleum cringed. I know I did, but it was only for a second. Couldn’t risk bein’ seen by Lori, Carl’s mom, when she rushed into the kitchen to see what was what, after all. Although, with hindsight, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed anyway. From the look on her face, I’d say she was more preoccupied about the sound at the time, thinkin’ it was the plate of pancakes she’d made for breakfast crashin’ to the floor, not just a toy.

Humans, always thinkin’ with their stomachs.

As for Buttons, he… well, he had some problems gettin’ around the bedroom after that. Didn’t adapt the way we all thought he would and wasn’t safe to ride anymore. Bucked me off whenever he got spooked blind and after bein’ thrown so many times I just never had it in me to get back on. Though, I sure did miss that saddle of his. Just sittin’ on it with my feet in the stirrups had me at a couple inches taller than my normal height of three-and-three-fourths, and I liked that. Made me feel high-up, like I was above all other toys… but that was because I was.

I was a Sheriff’s Deputy. It said so on my box from the day I was manufactured. I was ‘the role model.’ I could see it in every other toys’ eyes as they looked up at me when I’d pass them by. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. I had it all, the hat and the badge included, and I’m proud to say that despite the years both accessories have maintained a strong, solid color with no chips in the paint. Unlike my face.

I used to be clean-shaven, but that was before Carl came home one day with a marker and the bright idea of scribblin’ a beard onto my vinyl chin. I didn’t mind it at first, but as the weeks turned into months it began to smear, leavin’ me lookin’ like I’d gone three seasons native. Since then I’d been hopin’ that it’d rub off—and soon—but if it never does I can’t complain because Carl himself had said that he was happy with it and there was no arguin’ there.

I was his to be and he was mine. The best of friends that nobody could separate. It was like we were connected at the fingertips with super glue from day one. Love. I’m tellin’ you, that was what it was. Carl, he’d take me to the movies with him, stuff me into his pockets with his cubes of bubblegum and the movie-ticket. Afterwards he’d even set me on the table at some fast food place whilst he ate, offer me some fries if I wanted, but I’d silently refuse. It was always like that. The best of times for the best of friends.

But then HE showed up. Him with his cool-ass chopper, dark, pumpernickel hair swept to the side like a badass, goatee painted on professionally, and sittin’ square on his bike like it was a throne.

Daryl Dixon. ‘The toy that brought joy.’

Now, I don’t know who made that slogan up and got away with it on a children’s product for ages five and up, but do you know what else he brought? Jealously. I downright hated the man even before he wriggled his tight, vinyl ass and those stiff, plastic jeans out of his box. It wasn’t fair of me, ‘specially since he hadn’t really done anythang except exist in my space, but the feelin’ was strong and stayin’. However, thinkin’ back, what I _should_ have done was leave him be, but bein’ the bigger man I thought I’d introduce myself, get the ‘hellos, hi, how are ya’ outta the way. Simple stuff like that. Only, just as I walked up to him in my synthetic Cuban heels and he turned on guard, that was when I saw his eyes.

They were as black as coal, and every word I had prepared went up in smoke. I blanked and think I stared at him for a good, long minute. And if that wasn’t awkward enough, he went ahead and got the first word in. Y’know what it was?

‘Sup.’

Sup? What the hell did that even mean? What was I supposed to say to that?

I didn’t know, so I remained quiet and let this Daryl guy go on about stuff and thangs. Stuff like, he had a crossbow—in another version, at least—and would’ve probably pegged me with a bolt for sneakin’ up on him like I did if he had it.

As if.

I had a fixed gun in my right hand. A colt python. And from where I was standin’ bullets were faster than arrows. I didn’t say this to him, of course, but I sure as hell wanted to. If only Carl hadn’t distracted me by comin’ up the stairs when he did then I really think I might’ve… because Daryl Fuckin’ Dixon.

He just wouldn’t cooperate, unversed about the rules of the room. My rules. My room. And the minute I turned my back he was goin’ off on his own, jumpin’ from the bed and onto the nightstand, lookin’ out the window and into a vast world none of us other toys dared to tread, and then stompin’ around the bedroom floor like it was Main Street. He was a daredevil, fast on his feet, and a slippery fish, and I just couldn’t pin him down before Carl had one foot in the room and the door—

Well, let’s just say that was the first time I’d ever been hit with it.

Daryl? Not even a scratch. Then, as if to make matters worse, Carl picked him up first. HIM, not ME, which was it. The foremost and final straw. And as soon as the door was closed again, the both of us re-situated beside one another on the bed—no questions asked about how we got where—the bedroom brawl was on.

Daryl Dixon had no idea who he was dealin’ with.


	2. Daryl POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Name's Daryl. Dixon. Just gotta get this shit off of my chest...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know our priorities are messed up and that some of our other stories deserve our utmost attention. But please bear with us and relish in this... cuteness?

First thing I saw when I left my chopper kickstandin’ and got outta my box was this dude comin’ up to me like the floor was made of diamonds. Head swanky, legs bandy, eyes so squinted he looked half asleep, and features so sour my cheeks hurt just lookin’ at ‘im.

Pfft. S’like he thought he was too good fer me or somethin’. The prick. Didn’t think he’d ever come down off of that high horse of his and look me in the eyes, but wha’dya know? Dude proved me wrong. Though I knew it weren’t cause of obligation. ‘Screw courtesy,’ his expression told me, all blank and mouth so thin I didn’t think it was on his face anymore.

I’m tellin’ ya, it was creepy. Real unwelcomin’, too. ‘Specially when there weren’t no tailin’ salutation like I originally thought there was gonna be. What a jerk.

‘Sup.’ I’d eventually said, just to break the awkward silence smotherin’ me like a pillow.

I mean, I had to say somethin’. If I didn’t I was sure he was gonna shoot me in the foot with that gun he was wavin’ around, make me hopscotch or rain dance fer him every time he shot off a pelt. Hmph. Really wished I could’ve had my crossbow on me then. Told ‘im that, too—that I had one—just so he’d knock it off.

Me and my big mouth.

Should’ve seen the challengin’ glare I earned from runnin’ it. Dude even looked like he had somethin’ he wanted to tell me outta spite, but I didn’t ever wait around long enough to find out what it was. ‘Fuck it,’ I’d thought. He clearly didn’t want nothin’ to do with me. So the minute his back went turned, I turned mine.

Figured I’d go and get a feel fer the place while I still could, ya know? And since then seemed like as good a time as any to explore, I took it as I saw it. Jumped from where I was on the bed and made my way to the window to look out over the yard. But talk about disappointin’. There I was expectin’ to find forests galore, only to discover there weren’t much of nothin’ outside.

Some trees? Sure. Gnomes? A couple. But open space? Nada.

Anythin’ with that sorta promise was overrun by fences, makin’ the whole block look on lockdown or somethin’. Just to make sure it weren’t, I tried to pinpoint a street sign to read, but any of ‘em I saw I couldn’t finish. The closest I got was Alex-somethin’ on the left, and somethin’-bury on the right.

Kinda lost focus after that, ‘specially when I started sensin’ the Sheriff’s eyes back on me. Uh-huh, and I knew Mr. Unfriendly was a Sheriff ‘cause I’d seen that badge of his. Dude practically had it blarin’ on his chest like a siren with how burnished it was. Though that didn’t mean I thought of ‘im any different.

Once a prick, always a prick.

So I tried to lose him. Made my way to the bedroom floor to try and blend in with the other toys that were scurryin’ to hide ‘cause of the footsteps comin’ up the stairs. Yeah, I’d heard ‘em, too. But I weren’t worried. They sounded pretty far off at the time, so I took mine. Walked here, then there. Even had some to stop and ask the toy fireman, Abraham, who was whizzin’ by in his fire-red truck if he’d give me a quick lift over to the other side. He didn’t see why not, but just as I was beginnin’ to climb aboard—

BAM. I started seein’ stars.

Next thing I knew I was on my back and the Sheriff was throwin’ himself on top of me, tryin’ to pin me down. I didn’t let ‘im, but I couldn’t believe it. That kid of his hardly had one foot in the room yet, and there I was already bein’ tackled like some goddamn damsel tied to a train track with an oncomin’ steam engine about to rail me. Really put me on the spot, ‘specially when the bedroom door came swingin’ in like Tarzan and sideswiped the Sheriff straight into the wall, hat and all.

WHAM.

‘This’s on you,’ was what his face had scrawled on it, ‘sides that fake beard.

And sure, I felt kinda bad. But Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rick—I think his name was Rick… Could’ve sworn that was what I’d heard Abraham toot out before we had to act like toys again. Though it didn’t really matter if it was or wasn’t. ‘Cause only friends used each other’s names, and Rick and I weren’t gonna be friends. Weren’t gonna put this whole thing behind us, lock hands and sing Kumbayah together, neither.

Nah. There was only one way this could go down. He made that real clear the minute he put a target on my back and started glarin’ angry holes into my resin like a magnifyin’ glass tryin’ to start a fire while we were picked up and set back where we were supposed to be. And once the damn latch on the door was locked into place, the click soundin’ like a startin’ pistol durin’ a race, we went at it. Fists flyin’ high and low.

Prick obviously hadn’t ever messed with a Dixon before, and he was gonna be fuckin’ sorry that we’d ever crossed paths. I’s gonna make sure of it. Or at least, _would_ have made sure of it.

Dumb luck he got the first hit in.

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~We're contemplating whether to add a Daryl POV or not... Would anyone be interested? :')~~ Daryl POV added. Thanks for reading!


End file.
